Discreet
by dr.gemcity
Summary: He can't believe they don't notice him watching. How can two people be so wrapped up in their own little world that they become that oblivious? Two highly trained people at that. Christ, one of them is even a ninja.


_A/N: Hello friends! I'm a reader more than a writer, but every now and then I write a little something just for fun. Thought I'd go ahead and post one of them, so without further ado, here's my first contribution to fandom - an almost cracky little one-shot featuring a not-so-secret couple and our very favorite Probie author._

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or NCIS. No copyright infringement intended. Don't sue me! _

Discreet

Tim McGee stands near the elevator, relaxing against the wall and casually glancing in the direction of his partners. Tony, sitting at his desk but (shockingly) not working; hands on keyboard but mind elsewhere. Ziva, hands on his shoulders, leaning over whispering in his ear. Tim imagines what she must be saying. He observes Tony's chuckle, a soft shake to his head. _Ah, she's teasing him_. She whispers once more before she pulls back a little to look at him, giving him time to regard whatever it is she's said.

Tony is frozen, mouth slightly agape. Now it's her turn to chuckle. She leans in to his ear and bites his earlobe softly, before rising to saunter away. _Did she really just do that?_ Tony is staring after her now, as she returns to her desk. When she sits down, he shoots her a look that just says 'later.' _Ah, so it was that sort of teasing_.

McGee takes this opportunity to recede into the stairwell towards Abby's lab, mostly because it's in the opposite direction. So as not to betray his secret.

He can't believe they don't notice him watching. How can two people be so wrapped up in their own little world that they become that oblivious? Two highly trained people at that. Christ, one of them is even a ninja.

* * *

"Ninja." That's what he calls her when he thinks no one is listening. "My ninja" when he's almost sure they're alone. Only this time, they are not.

McGee sits several rows behind them in MTAC, buried in the shadows. _It's not my fault that MTAC is always so damned dark_. Tony twirls a curl around his fingers, and she cocks her head to beam at him. _Wow – never seen her beam before_, he makes a mental note_. _

Tony's hand moves from her hair to somewhere else; where, McGee can't see, but he can imagine. And from the way Ziva shudders, his suspicions must be right. _Must be payback for her earlier teasing_. Tony presses a kiss to her temple before standing to leave, a sly grin on his face and an extra swagger in his step as he leaves. She sits for a minute or more – _must be regaining her composure_ – before rising to leave as well. Tim stays seated for a while longer before exiting MTAC with a sideways glance and a sigh as he makes it out undetected.

* * *

When he gets home that night, Tim McGee sits down at his typewriter to write up what he observed that day. Ear lobe biting; _that's a new one_. MTAC rendezvous. _Check_. He pulls the page and files it away in a manila envelope labeled "Lisa and Tommy." The one he peruses when he needs to write in some heat between his (not so) imaginary agents. But he's not in a writing mood, so he sets about the rest of his evening, as he considers that almost-full manila envelope, and how it got this far.

It started innocently enough. An overheard conversation from a stall in the men's room. _Again, not my fault. Public location – and for men only_! Even though he knows he should have announced his presence, that would be too awkward from his place on the toilet seat. And so he let them talk. They were making plans – dinner plans. He hadn't known they even had dinner together. But it was obviously not the first time, not from the way they threw around phrases like "your place or mine?" and "I'll bring that leftover salad from last night." _Last night?_ McGee felt suddenly dirty, an intruder in their private lives until he heard Tony say, "until tonight, my ninja" before what sounded like a quick smooch. It hit him that that would be the perfect thing for Tommy to say to Lisa.

From there, it probably spiraled out of control, through McGee is reticent to admit it. He never goes out of his way to spy, per say, but he should probably announce himself a lot more often than he does. When he watches them, though, it feels more like character study than voyeurism. He is Thom E. Gemcity, watching private interactions between Tommy and Lisa. And he sees things he could never write on his own, not in a million years.

He reluctantly considers that it's probably because he hasn't had a real relationship in a while – okay, _ever_. Much less a sexy, push-and-pull, full of tension, _secret_ workplace romance with a ninja. He definitely could not write this shit. He can dream up the cases, with elaborate twists and turns. The stoic Tibbs isn't hard; he doesn't talk much. The geeky McGregoris embarrassingly easy to personify. But not Tommy and Lisa. Not when they're alone.

And that's how he justifies it.

* * *

The next morning McGee arrives an hour early to finish a report. Exiting the elevator he sees Ziva at Tony's desk, and wait, _is she straddling him?_ Indeed, she is. His hands are under her shirt, splayed across her bare back. _Jeez, they make this too easy_ he thinks as he slinks in the other direction. He heads downstairs to find someplace else to write his report; he doesn't need to see the rest of that scene.

* * *

As McGee signs on the dotted line in his editor's office, the last step in submitting his final manuscript, he thinks for the first time: _what will they do when they read the book?_ He curses that the thought has never crossed his mind before. Despite the contract, it's like he didn't think anyone would ever read it. Like it was a private secret, shared only with his typewriter.

_What will they do when they read it? _As he drives away, every scenario he can imagine ends badly.

He considers trying to hide the release from them. Only that didn't work last time. _And for chrissakes, it was a national bestseller_, he begrudges.

_Maybe they won't notice that it is _all _real_; but he doesn't believe that for a second, knowing the moments he captured were just too "_them"_.

He pulls into the NCIS lot, sweating, panicked, even though the book won't come out for months. He considers spilling the beans to Tony; they've been close for a while now. But he can't think how he might even begin the conversation.

Over the next few months he tries, several times, but it never comes out. And so, he says nothing.

* * *

The morning the book comes out, McGee is a nervous wreck. He sweats through his collar before lunch, his face read hot every time he is addressed by Tony or Ziva. Tony just shakes his head and chuckles as if to imply this is ordinary, albeit quirky, McGoo behavior. McGee spends the day concentrating on breathing and trying not to overheat. Or wet his pants.

He exists in a state of panic for a week as the novel gains publicity. It tops the bestseller list almost instantly; he even flies to New York to film a talk-show. But nothing ever happens. Could he be so lucky that none of them ever reads it? He had kept the contract for two more novels pretty quiet, and probably lots of books wind up on the bestseller list that no one on the team ever hears about.

The next Monday he comes into work is a little easier, and the next day after that. He eventually stops avoiding them, and a month later all is back to normal. The novel inches down the bestseller list, the public appearances have all finished airing and no one has said a damned thing. Not even Abby. _Phew_. He ponders that it's about time he gets lucky about something. For once. He leaves work with a wave to Tony and Ziva and a smile on his face.

The morning the novel drops off the bestseller list, McGee breathes a big, deep sigh of relief. He is elated, checking the paper three times just to be sure, with a big smile every time. _This is not how authors are supposed to feel when their books lose popularity_. But he doesn't care, he is just glad he doesn't have to walk into work on eggshells everyday, afraid someone accidentally picked up the "Books" section of the local paper.

And so he walks into work with a grin, only to be stopped in his tracks by a misplaced very special agent, sitting at his desk and wearing an expression reading "shoot probie."

Ziva is behind him, arms crossed and leaning against the filing cabinet, but as soon as he walks into the bullpen she comes to attention with a glare that leaves McGee actually fearing for his life.

"Read an interesting book last night, McAuthor," Tony says, holding up a copy of _Under Cover_ just for effect.

"Oh, how'd you like it?" the probie chuckles nervously, slowly venturing farther into the bullpen. It feels a lot like walking into a lion's den with a big juicy steak.

Ziva keeps opening her mouth as if to speak, but it's like she's too furious to get any words out. So instead, Tony continues, "only I think they've mislabeled the book… see here?" he says as he opens the front cover. "Says _fiction_," he snarls.

Ziva just keeps shooting him daggers and Tony looks like a hurt little puppy, and McGee feels, not for the first time, exceedingly guilty for airing their private moments to the world.

They stare expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't know where to start.

So he just stands there, dumbfounded for what feels like minutes but is actually mere seconds, before he is saved by the boss.

"Grab your gear," Gibbs says, crossing the bullpen, coffee in hand. When no one makes a move, Gibbs simply regards them with a glare, as if to say "what now?"

All three agents start talking at once. "Gibbs, McGoo wrote another book…" "…damn spy…" "Tony, Ziva, I am so sorry, it's just that…" "…wring your neck!"

They are startled from their jabber by the sound of a hardback book, thrown roughly by Gibbs onto his desk. "You mean this book?" he says, finger jabbing the cover.

"Boss you read it?"

"Yeah, 'bout a month ago."

The team is rendered speechless, they can only stare at Gibbs.

Tony, ever ready with something to say, is the first to break the silence. "But boss…" he stammers, "he wrote about us" he motions around the room. "and us," motioning to him and Ziva. "McPervert's been spying!" Tony looks to Ziva for support but she is too busy fuming: arms crossed, shooting death stares at McGee, who stands nervously in the center of the bullpen sweating bullets and looking sheepish.

"Well, yeah DiNozzo," Gibbs answers, opening his drawer and reaching for his gun. Gear in hand, he crosses over to McGee's desk, motioning for Tony to come closer.

"Boss?" he questions. And he is answered with the mother of all head slaps. His face sets in an exaggerated grimace as he rubs his head, while Gibbs leans in, speaking quietly but still loud enough for the whole team to hear: "you two should think about being a little more discreet."

Tony is shocked and regards Ziva with a wide open mouth, only to find her silently chuckling. "You think this is funny?" She nods, "a little." "Ninja's not as sneaky as she thought," Tony adds, turning back to Gibbs, who retreats before turning to regard McGee.

"Oh, and McGee?" Gibbs asks as he walks toward where he stands, still frozen.

"Yeah boss?"

Gibbs delivers another head slap as he breezes by McGee towards the elevator.

"Anyone joining me?"

The team scrambles to grab their gear before the elevator arrives. McGee is the first to join Gibbs, while Tony lingers, leaning over Ziva's desk while she retrieves her gun to whisper, "looks like we need to work on being more discreet."

Ziva smirks as she rounds her desk to join Tony in walking towards the team, still waiting for the elevator. She gives his butt a little squeeze, and he yelps, earning a glare from Gibbs and McGee. Tony just shrugs his shoulders before following them into the elevator.

McGee can't help but think that went better than expected. He still has all his limbs; in fact Ziva hadn't even pulled a knife on him. As they wait silently in the elevator, Tim counts all his fingers, just to be sure.

* * *

After the incident in the bullpen, things calm down. It takes Tony a few days to get past the silent treatment and back to gentle teasing and name-calling. Ziva's gaze stops looking quite so dangerous in about a week, and in a month, Tim is sure she's over it. She even mentions one night over end-of-case drinks that it was his best book yet.

Tony and Ziva take Gibbs' advice; McGee doesn't notice any more intimacy between the couple. He's not even sure they're still together, except they still flirt and tease from across their desks. That, and Tony hasn't woken up dead yet.

Several months later, just when Tim's sure they can't possibly be dating, that whatever it was they had been doing is surely over, he notices an extra sparkle on Ziva's ring finger as she gloves up at a crime scene.

He quietly congratulates her later, and shakes Tony's hand, offering to buy celebratory drinks.

It's not until days later, sitting at his typewriter that Tim has a fleeting thought: _what if Tommy and Lisa got married?_ With a smile, he starts typing…


End file.
